


A Study In Strangled

by tielan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/M, Painplay, Sexual Content, Sparring, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-04
Updated: 2011-11-04
Packaged: 2017-10-25 16:49:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/272532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She spends all day winding him up, bit by bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study In Strangled

**Author's Note:**

> SGA Kinkmeme prompt filled for kink_bingo: "At Ronon's urging, John gets a tattoo in a non-visible place on his body. Teyla discovers that the tattoo site is now very sensitive - and that John gets turned on when she strokes it. Cue casual public touching that gets John unbearably turned on."

Lunch was curry with blue potatoes, with Pegasus salad (it came with little white fluffy spring-coiled leaves amidst the green bits) and chocolate pudding for dessert.

"This is new," Rodney observed when John reached for the pudding first. "Comfort food first?"

John shrugged as he peeled off the pudding cover, then winced. "I feel like pudding."

"Bad R&R?" Rodney smirked, unabashed. "I told you that trying to out-drink Ronon was a bad idea. You were doomed to failure from the start."

"I wasn't doomed!"

"I mean, he's six foot tall and all of it's muscle."

"We didn't get drunk. Tipsy, maybe."

"So that wasn't Teyla carrying you up to your room in a rather fetching role-reversed re-enactment of Gone With The Wind?" If Gone With The Wind had featured Rhett tossing Scarlett over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Teyla wasn't quite up to sweeping John off his feet. "Did she ravish you?"

John glared. "You and Keller having problems?"

Rodney waved a hand dismissively. "Irrelevant to the question at hand. Hey, Teyla."

"Rodney. May I?" Teyla indicated the empty chair beside John. "Unless you are holding a private conversation?"

"In the middle of the mess hall?" Rodney asked. "Well, I was asking if you played Rhett Butler to his Scarlett O'Hara after that dramatic exit from the Gateroom last night, but he's being coy."

John's eyes narrowed. "I am not being coy!"

"He was too drunk to be of any use," Teyla said with the twitching start of a smile on her lips as she set out the containers of her lunch, and apparently ignoring John's immediate and very visual mortification. "Excuse me, I have forgotten my utensils." She used the table and the back of John's chair to push herself up.

John had a peculiar expression on his face as Teyla sashayed across the room.

"Zing!" Rodney all but sang, unfettered in his glee.

The other man's scowl would have intimidated a room of fluffy bunnies, perhaps, but Rodney was neither fluffy nor a rabbit. "I just think that if you're asking about my sex life..."

"Please. I wasn't asking for specifics! And if you did start over-sharing, I'd have you hauled off to the infirmary and checked over for signs of body-snatching."

Teyla returned with her utensils, the ketchup, and a sachet of wasabi, and wobbled a little as she slipped in between her chair and John's, putting her hand on his back to steady herself. "John has been body-snatched?"

John's expression was a study in strangled.

Rodney just smirked.

\--

He caught Teyla in the transporter on the way out of the mess hall, jogging a little to catch up.

The doors closed.

His shoulders were shoved against the transporter wall and his world exploded into pleasurable pain. John's back arched as her mouth swallowed him whole, fingers on his collar dragging him down hard enough to click their teeth together. Her hips rocked a sensuous rhythm against him, winding him up.

"So unfair," he mumbled, knowing the trip was going to end in less than half a minute. There wasn't time for what he wanted to do.

Her smile tasted of spice and sunshine. "I know."

Fifteen seconds later when the transporter doors opened to a squad of off-duty marines headed for lunch, they looked modest and presentable and composed, even if John was a little flushed.

\--

"She's toying with him today," muttered Hobson as they watch the fighters go around and around the mats.

Evan shrugged. They were early for the sparring room, but Sheppard didn't chase them out, so he figured it was a good time to give the guys a good look - equally a warning - on just what an alien woman can do. This was a new batch of marines, rotated out after they left Earth so precipitously. It was get out fast or risk the IOA changing its mind about letting Atlantis come back to Pegasus, and not everyone on leave could be re-deployed so soon.

So Evan had a new bunch of marines to teach about the idiosyncrasies of the city and its steady inhabitants.

Including Sheppard and Teyla.

Teyla was definitely playing. Little thwacks of her bantos that must have stung a wicked bitch, but which only made Sheppard's expression more intense. She passed up several chances to take him out, slapping him across the shoulders and making him jerk with the pain. But he stayed in the fight.

"You have not had enough punishment yet?"

Sheppard twirled the rod in his right hand in a complex pattern, then struck high and hard and was blocked. "I've got a high tolerance for pain."

Teyla's mouth turned up in a smile. "What is that song? _'I get knocked down, but I get up again'_?"

"Just call me the Energizer Bunny."

"I thought that was stamina, not resilience." Quick as lightning she attacked, spun off and around him, and whacked him across the butt.

"Stamina, resilience...Ah!" Sheppard yelped as she followed it up with another slap on the shoulder. He was breathing hard now, almost panting, and for a moment Evan wondered if he should intervene.

But Sheppard stayed up, although he was moving a little stiffly. "I guess you're not going to be lenient just 'cause the kids are around?"

Teyla laughed. "Do you _want_ me to be lenient, John?"

He fought off her next two attacks, spinning her away like a pinball in a machine. "I guess not."

"How about I settle for not laying you out?"

Evan frowned when Sheppard took a moment to answer. He'd expected the other guy to chime in with an, " _I could get behind that._ " Evan would have; he'd fought against Teyla once or twice, and lived with the bruises on his body for days after. The bruises on his ego had lasted _weeks_ , until Ronon Dex came along and - other than that first time when Sheppard distracted her - she started kicking his ass, too.

The end came fast, as though Teyla had tired of the game. Her rod slid across his throat, her knee nudged his back. Sheppard's eyes closed for a moment, then opened. "You fight dirty," he said, breathlessly.

"I know." Teyla said, smiling.

Evan nodded at them as they came out, but couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something.

\--

"I don't think I can take much more of this," John said quietly as they went down one of the longer corridors, presently empty of anyone else.

Teyla glanced at him, and although her mouth was prim, there was the hint of a smile about her expression. "You can take the matter into your own hands, John."

He didn't answer that. They both knew it wasn't _his_ hands he wanted.

Then he jerked as her hand rested on his back shoulder, massaging gently. Pain writhed down his spine, shoving him deeper into the physicality of desire. Every twitch of tender flesh wound him tighter, and he was surprised to find he wasn't tenting his sweat pants.

At the end of the corridor, the camera would see Teyla smiling up at him as she rested a hand on his shoulder, but not the hot ache curling inside John as they walked.

Her eyes were beautiful and a little cruel. "You can wait, John."

\--

"So," Ronon asked as they settled themselves in the rec room. "How's the tatt doing?"

John's grimace said everything that his answer didn't elaborate upon. "Still sore."

Ronon smirked. "Thought you liked it painful."

"That's the problem." John flicked through the menu, navigating with the same kind of ease with which he flew the puddlejumpers. "Begin where we left off?"

Ronon shrugged. "All the same to me."

Watching as the Orc army besieged the city in the mountain, Ronon pondered on the peculiar storytelling of the Lanteans. They had such a fondness for stories where the outnumbered and downtrodden rose up - so long as those being risen against were obviously evil.

On Sateda, the story would have been about two more evenly matched armies battling it out, their cunning and cleverness in battle and strategy resulting in a winner who succeeded in defeating their opponent. It made it much more interesting than the Earth stories like this where the 'good' people were obvious within the first five minutes. Where was the challenge in that?

"Sateda fought the Wraith, though," John said when he brought it up, as though that explained everything.

"Yeah. So?"

"So, you were the underdog."

Ronon snorted. "They were an opponent to be defeated. We learned what we had to learn." And it hadn't made a difference. In the end, Sateda was betrayed by Kel, stripped of it's ability to fight back.

They were just at the part where the Elven army turned up at Helm's Deep when the doors hissed back and Teyla entered the room.

She paused inside the door. "Am I interrupting?"

John looked to Ronon, who shrugged.

"Fine by me."

 It wasn't like they were going to do anything that would make him uncomfortable.

As the battle for Helm's Deep began, John leaned forward as though anticipating the action. It wasn't until the hero-guy decided to ride out into the fray that Ronon turned his gaze from the screen - the battle itself was mesmerising, even if he knew who would win - and realised Teyla was stroking her fingertips over the tattoo site, her eyes on John's face rather than the screen. In contrast, Sheppard was staring at the movie with lust-glazed eyes, a fine pearl of sweat on his brow and cheeks, sheening down his throat.

Ronon shifted his hips, instinctively, and found himself the subject of both their gazes, dawning tension in hazel eyes, amused inquiry in oaknight ones.

"Do you need me to watch?"

"Watch?" John nearly yelped, but it was Teyla who answered.

"Yes."

So he watched the helpless desire build in John's face, the avid pleasure gleaming in Teyla's as she worked them both to the edge through the cloth of John's trousers - then left them there, folding her hands in her lap.

Ronon knew his cue. It looked like Teyla was going to be possessive tonight. But he bent to kiss her cheek as he left the room to give them the privacy Sheppard needed, and to take care of his own needs. "It was a pleasure."

"Some other time," she offered with a glittering smile.

\--

John had never been so humiliated - or so turned on - in his life. Ronon watched with interested eyes as Teyla... As John...

He couldn't even think it in his head. No wonder when Teyla knew every way to stroke him, to tease him, when her teeth scraped that sensitive spot where shoulder and neck met, when her hand pressed against the tender skin of his tattoo.

And it _was_ exciting in a way; to have someone watch the way he responded to her, to have someone else witness the way Teyla's tongue perched on the edge her mouth, the gentle press of her breast against his side, the glitter in her eyes as she watched John lose it, piece by piece.

Ronon was probably the best witness John could hope for in Atlantis. He seemed quite okay with this - even a little turned on; John was finding it hotter than he should; and Teyla seemed to be enjoying her unabashed possession of him.

She took it up a notch, massaging the tattoo as she squeezed the tip of his cock through his clothed, and John's fingers clenched on the edge of the seat cushions as he held on and tried to remember how not to come.

Then she stopped.

John nearly screamed, although he understood when she sent Ronon away. It was to be just them this time.

He had no problem with that.

\--

Teyla slid her hands under the edge of John's t-shirt, pulling the hem up to get at the flesh beneath. Smooth skin, here and there marked with scars, but hot and salty when she bent and sucked on the soft flesh of his waist.

She had been ready much of the last few hours, thinking about this. Thinking of John and the way she had wound him up all day, the way he had watched her with bedroom eyes, just waiting for her to take him. Thinking about all the ways she would possess him before dawn.

Now that Teyla had him, she would savour him.

Starting with the thrill at his shiver when she stroked her tongue across to his spine and the catch in his voice as he asked, “Did you have to do that...that thing before with Ronon watching?"

"Did you not enjoy that?" She grazed her nails up his sides, gathering the t-shirt up and over the still-tender tattoo. "You did not tell Evan to wait outside the gym while we were sparring."

"I couldn't. It would have been...weird."

His hands were resting on the edge of the sofa cushion, fingers kneading the padding while he looked over his shoulder at her, hazel eyes lambent.

"Or you wanted them to watch me claim you."

Tugging the shirt over his head silenced his answer for a moment. And when his hair sprang out and his arms tangled in the cotton cloth, Teyla leaned over his shoulder so close that her lips brushed his earlobe.

"You could have asked Ronon to leave," she pointed out. "If you had truly been uncomfortable."

"I'm not usually reluctant to speak up, am I?"

"Not usually, no."

Teyla bit his earlobe and trailed her fingers over the dark curlicues of the tattoo, feeling him twitch. Reaching down, she closed her other hand over his hand, fine bones and solid skin. "Show me where you want to be touched, John."

His chest rose and fell erratically as he guided her hand to the fastening of his trousers, unzipped his fly, and closed her fingers around him - hot and damp and hard in her palm from swollen scrotum to hooded tip.

"You have wanted this all day."

"So have you," he replied, and eased her thigh over his leg, smoothing it with his palm. "Would you have taken me on the floor with the marines watching?"

"Do you like that thought, John? Having someone else watch as I claim you?"

He did. His breath caught and his erection twitched in her hand.

Teyla smiled into his throat and squeezed him hard. "Perhaps I should invite an audience next time?"

"I...I don't think that it's...exactly appropriate..." John panted.

"And yet you have not locked the door of this room, either. Anyone could walk in and see you here on the lounge, with my hand upon you."

"I..." He was hoarse now, trying to breathe, trying to speak, trying to think, while Teyla's caresses were taking up all his processing space. "I can't while... You didn't give me... I can't..."

His hand came around the back of her neck and he dragged her to him, mouth against her mouth. Teyla rode the heat of those kisses out as she worked him closer, closer...

John made an inchoate noise in his throat, and his hand on her neck tightened to the point of pain as he came. Her hand was sticky with the gush of his seed, and she gripped him as he trembled and thrust, and drank at every moan that passed from his lips to hers.

It was not a physical release for her. But the taste of his need, the hunger in his kisses - oh yes, there was pleasure in that. Teyla smiled against John's lips as she helped him down from the high, undaunted by his dazed satisfaction. Her own was just as great.

There were many other ways to claim physical pleasure, and John would not be averse to indulging her.

\--

John was exhausted.

After spending the whole day being wound up by Teyla, he was limp with release. And feeling vaguely guilty that he hadn't held on long enough for her to come for the ride.

He buried his head in the crook of her neck afterwards, tugging her into his lap so she sat astride him. "You are evil," he muttered. "You know that?"

Teyla laughed and her fingers caressed his hair, not pausing at the damp of his scalp - in fact not pausing until her fingertips flirted with the edges of the tattoo. "And you enjoy it."

He shivered with the almost-but-not-quite pain. "Yes."

"Mm. Well," she said, "If you are good, then perhaps I will be particularly evil again later."

John lifted his head enough to eye her cautiously. It sounded like she had something in mind. And he found that slightly terrifying - and more than a little arousing. "You've got a deal."

Her smile sent shivers all though his body.


End file.
